


Don't breathe

by frumplebump



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M, Short, Tendershipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 12:06:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4834700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frumplebump/pseuds/frumplebump
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here, you don't need to breathe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2005, posted here with minor edits for style only.

The sensation is like a hand falling to my shoulder, demanding attention, but I know there is no hand there.

“What?” I ask aloud. When I speak out loud, it’s easier to hide my wariness.

_I’m going to show you something. Come here._

The non-existent hand tugs me sharply backwards, and the world erases itself as I lose my body and enter my—our—soul.

“What?” I ask again. Here, the hand on my shoulder does exist, and it squeezes tighter when I speak.

“Don’t you ever get tired of it all, yadonushi?” he asks, leaning into me. I can feel him pressing against my hair.

“Of _what_ all?”

“Life.” His grip on my shoulder loosens and he slides his hand down my arm. “Minutes. Hours.” He lays his hand over mine, a perfect match, then curls his fingers through my own. “Time.” His other arm snakes around my shoulder and across my chest. Does he think I’m going to try to run? Here? “Existing. Breathing.”

“I think you’re just jealous.”

His hold on me tightens, pulling me back against him. “It’s you who should be jealous. I’m never going to die.” The hand on my chest comes up to cover my mouth, stopping my breath. “Every breath you take is a little tick mark measuring the moments until your death. Don’t you want to just…stop for a while?”

I struggle a little under his hand, and he laughs. “Fool,” he says fondly. “Mortal.” He uses the hand on my mouth to press my head back, tipping me to lean against his shoulder. He looks down into my eyes. “Here, you don’t need to breathe, yadonushi.”

It’s true that I feel none of the choking pressure that I should feel by now. But I still want to breathe. It’s more terrifying not to need to breathe than it is to be unable to.

He relaxes his hand and I slide it off my face. He’s looking at me with amusement and arrogant pity. “Your life shortens with every breath, and still you want to do it. Is it the irresistible attraction of death?” His eyes glitter.

“It’s the irresistible appeal of life,” I retort.

“Mm.” He runs his fingers across my forehead. “Delay will make it sweeter for you, don't you think?” He leans down and kisses me, sealing my mouth again.

He’s moving so slowly, so completely languid. He waits for a long time before he even tries to get me to open my lips to him, and when he does, I know I can’t outwait him. I let him slide his tongue into my mouth, let him move thoughtfully and lazily, and finally I try to pull back for breath.

He holds me in place. He won’t let me break away. I start to feel frantic, and then his fingers tighten gently over my hand. And I remember that I don’t need to breathe, because here there is no time, and no life, and no end of anything.


End file.
